


Heat

by DancerInTheMoonlight



Series: And They Lived [1]
Category: Glee
Genre: Adopted Children, Attempt at Humor, Autumn, Death, Disney Movies, Family Fluff, Fluff, Grief/Mourning, If you only read one work by me, M/M, Pancakes, Parent-Child Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-04
Updated: 2019-12-04
Packaged: 2021-02-18 03:16:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21670951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DancerInTheMoonlight/pseuds/DancerInTheMoonlight
Summary: "Confined in an infinite space, a slow, simmering warmth enveloped everything in existence. Everything was heat."
Relationships: Blaine Anderson/Sebastian Smythe
Series: And They Lived [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1954504
Comments: 6
Kudos: 21





	Heat

**Author's Note:**

> This was the first and will always be my favourite. Ma Biche, ma plus chère, ma préférée!  
> Hope you like it, too. :)

Everything was heat. Confined in an infinite space, a slow, simmering warmth enveloped everything in existence.

There was nothing but its continual spread. Bristly goosebumps creeping over his sides all the way to his neck. Prickly flames of growing lust licking their way up his inner thigh. A torrid kettle boiling in his belly, its scalding contents seeping into every extremity. The nagging warmth making him gasp for air, producing steamy mouthfuls of an unspoken name. The heat was everywhere, a nameless and stifling fit of delirium, and his body coiled and strained, a hot mess upon cool sheets. He squirmed in a frenzy, strangling the sounds that begged to be uttered, until the swelter was too much to bear and he woke in a cold sweat, every nerve-ending gravitating towards one part of his body alone; a solid reminder of the maddening inferno he committed himself to endure.

Chest slightly heaving, he glanced to the left side of the bed at the sleeping form next to him. There was a slow rise and fall of the covers, discernible by what little light came from the lamps, dimmed due to the cloudy sky outside, and accompanied by a soft but persistent patter of raindrops against the windowpanes. The entire scene before him seemed a creation carefully enveloped in a bubble of its own, away from the blaze that consumed everything in its path and turned certain parts of him to stone. He felt the urge to reach out and let his fingers burst the precious bubble, to creep in like the unmanageable heat and consume everything he gets a hold of; to set fire to the stupid rain whose rapping against the windows gave the bubble an air of steady calm. A sanctuary.

For a moment of pure selfishness he wanted nothing more than to disrupt that calm. To let flames of desire lay waste to it had an uncanny appeal. He was already halfway through scooting closer to the unaware body responsible for the covers’ soft rise and fall, infuriatingly oblivious to the chaos unfolding just on the other side of the bed, when he realized this was the first night in over a week that he wasn’t woken up by that same body either leaving its side of the comfortable bed way too early to be qualified as morning, or collapsing into it at an hour too ungodly to be accepted as bedtime. The realization cooled him down faster than an ice bucket, and made him somewhat appalled at his own insensitivity, brought on by a dream, no less.

He settled onto his side and let his eyes wander over loose curls and parted lips, over the upturned hand that lay on the pillow as if swearing to a secret oath.

Blaine always slept on his back, like he was about to surrender to the entire world around him, and right now his expression was so serene Sebastian felt another pang of guilt for ever wishing to disturb that. Serene surrender; it was an endless source of frustration and fascination for Sebastian Smythe. Its intensity filled him with awe and made him want to run away as far as he could, but he also mostly longed to stick around and bask in the pure freedom of being it provided. The times he wanted to run away were fuelled by a fear of failure, for Sebastian Smythe was egoistic enough to not allow anyone, himself included, see him try and fail. But, more importantly, Sebastian Smythe cared enough to also not allow anyone, least of all Blaine, see him fail to try. So he stayed.

Blaine never thought Sebastian was failing, but Sebastian often wasn’t so sure.

He didn’t know how long he spent lying there on his side, staring at Blaine and marvelling at the reality of the other’s existence in his life. Suddenly, there was a faint rustle followed by the bedroom door opening with a creak, which cut too smoothly through a room filled with so many thoughts, and Sebastian realized that the rain had stopped.

The creak was followed by a soft “ _Bastien_?” whose watery tone effectively annihilated every other sound in the room, ringing through it like an unintentional sigh through an empty church. Sebastian turned around slowly. “Hey, you,” he whispered at the small figure huddled in the doorway, a mass of blonde hair falling in her face and the only toy she ever carried with her held firmly in one hand. “ _Ma biche, qu'est-ce qui se passe_?”

The figure didn’t answer, but just stood there in the doorway as if petrified; an exquisite part of the room’s décor, save for the trembling lip which Sebastian’s eyes, thoroughly adjusted to the darkness into which he had been staring trying to memorise all of Blaine’s features for god knows how long, easily detected. “ _Viens ici_ ,” he gently extended his hand toward the frozen figure, and no sooner had the words rolled off his tongue than the figure was halfway across the room, her marigold-patterned nightdress swishing softly as she moved.

Without a word, she flung herself at Sebastian who sat up to meet her, throwing her arms around his neck and clinging to him as if to never let go; the only tighter grip was on the stuffed creature she still clutched in her hand. She buried her face in his shoulder and he could tell by the weird trembling of her tiny frame that she was starting to give into tears.

“Hey. Hey,” Sebastian said a bit louder than before, now slightly worried at the lack of verbal response. The only thing he consistently insisted upon ever since Alizée came into his life – and, subsequently, into Blaine’s – was addressing the problem as soon as it appeared. Admittedly, this revolutionary method was not something that he himself, despite his directness, had been practicing for very long, leaving only so much to be learned; yet, miraculously, Blaine never complained and it seemed to work perfectly in both ways.

However, if this was a case of the Unspeakable (as Sebastian liked to refer to it in his head), then there was only one possible problem that came to Sebastian’s mind, and one that he, too, was struggling very hard to deal with; a matter made that much more difficult with an inconsolable child in his arms. Buying himself some time, he glanced across the bed to check if Blaine had been disturbed by any of this. Truth be told, Sebastian secretly hoped that he’d find Blaine awake, warm eyes encouraging him to continue, a hand finding its way to Sebastian’s back in silent reassurance. He hadn’t even stirred, the traitor.

Letting out a breath he was holding, Sebastian turned his head back to the golden-haired mess trembling into his shoulder. “ _C’est bon_ , _ma Biche_ ,” he found himself saying, voice barely above a whisper under pretence so as not to wake Blaine but in reality for fear he might break down and cry as well. “It’s ok, I’m here. I got you.” He kept repeating the words as a kind of mantra for both of them, over and over, rocking them slightly back and forth, until the crying gradually faded into an occasional quiet sniffle. Feeling that the worst was over, he leaned back a bit in an attempt to get the girl to look at him. She didn’t budge, so Sebastian tried a different approach.

“Bad dream?” he asked, trying to sound more casual about it than he felt. It wasn’t that Sebastian was particularly horrified of bad dreams and incapable of handling them, but several facts stood against his case in this situation.

Considering most children her age, Alizée was not an easily freaked-out child – or at least not one to show it (he blamed that entirely on the Smythe gene-pool). Therefore, for something to freak her out of her bed and all the way into another room it must have been really freaky. Another thing was that Garbo, their larger-than-average akita inu half-breed (which Sebastian stubbornly insisted on referring to as ‘Blaine’s dog’) liked to sleep in front of Alizée’s room, probably because she ended up sleeping _in_ it more often than not. (A habit which made Sebastian want to pull his hair out and which Blaine fondly encouraged, reminiscent of the time Sebastian had been away and Garbo kept him company at night – something that stuck even when Sebastian eventually got back; however, he was also grateful that the dog was no longer in _their_ bed so he stopped complaining.) If Garbo’s presence had not been enough to keep the dream-monsters at bay, then it must have been the real ones who decided to show. And this was exactly what frightened Sebastian, because the last and most devastating of the facts was this: Blaine was currently asleep and unable to back him up in the ugly face of nightmarish horrors.

Generally speaking, Blaine was much better at dealing with such matters. It seemed to Sebastian that Blaine always knew what to say and _how_ to say it, and not only to Alizée but to Sebastian, as well. He learned very early on in their relationship that the man was a natural at reassurance, which explained why so many people tended to like Blaine, even though they happened to know precious little about him. When the two of them first met, it confused and even annoyed Sebastian how someone could be so ridiculously and needlessly nice to everyone, addressing with politeness even those who sooner deserved the communicative courtesy of a punch in the face (Sebastian himself falling into that category pretty quickly, back then). However, he soon realized that it wasn’t just Blaine. It was the people, changing their attitude in an encounter _with_ Blaine – whether they became less snarky or more cheerful, whether they relaxed into the communication or found new confidence in what they were doing. Blaine made people feel better about themselves. And Sebastian was living proof. Hell, Sebastian was an exemplary specimen of hard-core bitterness turned sweet, letting teenage feelings about himself escalate into the worst of behaviours in a long and futile rebellion against the undeserved kindness, only to be gradually redeemed by affection he still wasn’t sure he deserved, sometimes. He did feel better about himself, however. And not only that – Sebastian wanted to do better, _be_ better in exchange for all the kindness he had been given.

So, instead of waking up Blaine in a time of crisis, he turned all of his attention back to the little girl in his arms who, in response to the question, slowly nodded into his shoulder. She seemed to have calmed down a bit so Sebastian considered the best course of action. Blaine might be an expert on what to say, but Sebastian had his own expertise in what to do.

“Well, you could always stay here with B. and me,” he pretended to contemplate an important matter. “It’s common knowledge that the bad dreams never visit us,” he whispered confidentially, “seeing as they are all _terrified_ of Blaine’s snoring.” As if on cue, Blaine let out a loud snore, causing them both to giggle.

Sebastian took his chances at the giggle. “ _Très bien, vous pouvez rester, à moins que vous êtes un chien, bien sûr._ _Êtes-vous un chien, mademoiselle_?” He pretended to scrutinize her face, which only brought on more giggles and hurried whispers of “ _Non!_ _Je ne suis pas un chien, vois-tu? Je suis une fille!_ _Regarde!_ ” as she made much effort to sound credible, while Sebastian was pretending he wasn’t convinced. However, if Blaine’s stirring and an incoherent mumble had been any indication, this silly game was rapidly becoming too loud for any sleeping parties so Sebastian, not wanting to wake him at the crack of dawn just because the pair of them couldn’t sleep, relented.

“Okay, I can see you’re not a dog,” he said. “But I can also see that the sun is up” – he glanced at the window – “and so are we.” Sebastian turned back to face her. “How about we go and make a surprise breakfast for Blaine?” he asked quietly and Alizée nodded in agreement, proceeding to climb on Sebastian’s back for a piggyback ride to wherever they were heading. “Snoring bad dreams away requires sustenance, you know,” he added matter-of-factly, making her giggle again against his back. It didn’t take long to think of that, since Blaine was usually the first one up, taking Garbo for a walk – which was somehow always early enough for him to still find time to make breakfast afterwards, seemingly along the way. Even on the rare occasions Sebastian took Garbo out (insisting it was “Blaine’s dog”) he would still come home to Blaine already up and at ‘em. This was an exquisite opportunity to surprise him and Sebastian made it sound like a plan because Alizée loved a secret plan. Sebastian loved a secret plan, too, at least when it involved Blaine. Taking one last look at him to make sure he was still asleep, Sebastian quietly made for the door, Alizée on his back.

As they reached the hallway and he was about to discuss the details of their culinary mission, there was a yap and the sound of something scurrying closer, a shuffle of paws against the wooden floor and – _well, shit_ , Sebastian thought, indulging a split-second fantasy of turning on his heel and going back to bed. But Garbo was already on them, wagging her tail excitedly at the prospect of going out with not one, but two of her pack-members, none of them being Blaine. Sebastian knew that in order to earn any breakfast-making peace, they were going to have to take care of the dog first. He put Alizée down and crouched beside her to level their heights. Garbo interpreted this as an invitation to come closer and lick at his ear so, in between of batting her away and trying to maintain his balance, he said: “I know we agreed to make breakfast. But what do you say we go on an adventure first?”

“Adventure?”

He nodded solemnly. She cast a quick look at the dog. “Is Garbo coming?”

Sebastian nearly laughed; life gave it to him easy, sometimes. “Of course,” he said, keeping his most _isn’t-it-obvious_ face on. “It was Garbo who suggested it, just now, in my ear.”

That seemed to verify the idea. Not wanting to waste much time, Sebastian sent her off to put some clothes over her nightdress, the words ‘pyjama adventure’ making it all sound even more exciting. He quickly threw something over his own pyjamas and went to make some tea to take with them, writing a note for Blaine in the meantime, in case the adventure took a while. Garbo was on his heels but kept her distance; while Blaine let her jump all over him, Sebastian made pretty clear boundaries when it came to personal space. Sensing this morning was out of the usual, however, she ventured so far as to gently nudge his loose hand while he was waiting for the tea-bags to soak. With Sebastian, if uninvited, this was as bold a move as jumping onto the kitchen counter. Sebastian was spacing out a bit, and the cold kiss of a wet muzzle against the back of his hand brought him back to where he was standing. “You know, I do _kinda_ like you, despite your smell,” he addressed the dog in a tone friendlier than usual, patting her head, which made Garbo continue her advances more fervently, tail wagging while Sebastian smirked. “Yeah, yeah. Don’t let it go to your head,” he warned, but gave her ears a scratch.

There was hurried skipping down the stairs (something he’ll have to have a word about with both her and Blaine) and Alizée appeared in the kitchen doorway, adventure-clad in a trench coat, her marigold-patterned nightdress peeking from underneath, and a pair of psychedelic leggings that clashed horribly with her bright yellow rain boots. “ _Je suis prête! On y va!_ ” she half-hissed at Sebastian, so he quickly picked up their tea and, after sneaking the note to Blaine, headed to the hallway. Garbo had another fit of excitement when he showed her the leash – something to be expected since Sebastian taking her out was always treated as a special occasion – and when that was over, they were finally off.

*

Outside was a mild but a wet September morning, bits of rain clinging to every surface and making everything glisten under the rising sun. There was a small park not far from their apartment building, and Garbo led the way, stopping by a random puddle and yipping at every pigeon they encountered along the way, a bit of a show-off when provided with an audience – in this case, the two of her humans. The said humans walked quietly side by side, Alizée carrying their tea with a sense of purpose and curiously eying her surroundings (it was the first time they ever went somewhere this early in the morning since she moved here from Paris!) and Sebastian walking more dreamlike, as if somewhere else. Soon they came to a halt and Garbo started pulling on her leash impatiently. Aware that Blaine usually let her run freely for a while at this point, Sebastian unleashed the dog into the empty clearing. There were hardly any people around, save for a few dog-walkers and the occasional morning runner, and they took the bench that had the best view over the entire area. The sun was fully beating down by now, adorning everything that glistened with a touch of gold. Even though it was pleasantly warming, they opted to sit on the backrest.

Keeping an eye on Garbo, Sebastian poured their tea into a pair of paper-cups he produced from the left pocket of his jacket – only now did he realize he was wearing one of Blaine’s, which suddenly explained why it was so short and how he managed to fit the cups into his pocket in the first place, for Blaine liked big pockets to carry a million things in them – and handed one to Alizée. “ _Votre thé, mademoiselle_ ,” he announced ceremoniously. “ _Pas de croissant_ , I’m afraid,” he added, taking a sip from his own cup. It wasn’t coffee, but he’d live.

“ _Merci_ ,” the girl thanked him, holding the cup close to her face but not drinking.

“If it’s too hot, you can–” Sebastian began but she spoke up, her voice drowning whatever he was about to say.

“ _Je manque ma maman_.”

And there it was, the Unspeakable. The ugly monster of the everyday, rearing its frightful head on a clear September morning in the park.

Sebastian took a deep breath – _what do you say to that?_ _What would Blaine say?_ he thought. _You know well what_ , a voice not unlike Blaine’s seemed to answer.

“ _A moi aussi elle me manque, ta maman_.” He paused. The Unspeakable he had tried to bury away somewhere was rapidly digging its way out. “ _Trop_.”

She nodded once and took a sip of her tea. “ _Elle nous voit, tu croi_ s?”

He let out a small laugh. “ _Je crois qu’elle est trop curieuse de ne pas jeter un coup d’oeil._ ”

She beamed at him, golden hair, yellow boots and marigold nightdress bright in the sun that now shone directly upon them. “ _Je suis hereuse de t’avoir pour papa, Bastian_ ,” she declared suddenly. Sebastian found himself smiling back at her, feeling lighter than he had in almost a year. “Blaine, _aussi_ ,” she added as an afterthought and he bumped their paper-cups in agreement to that.

The silent toast was interrupted by a set of resounding barks that announced Garbo’s return from her patrol around the park. She was carrying what looked like a thoroughly chewed piece of wood, which she then dropped experimentally on their bench. Alizée made to grab it but Garbo only snatched it away in an attempt to play catch, and the girl took off after her in indignation. “Here goes the adventure,” Sebastian sighed to himself, gathering their things and then trailing behind in case they wandered off too far. The bright morning sun followed him around, like a gentle hand stroking his hair and warm lips kissing his face; embracing him whole.

*

The morning sun woke him with an ardent kiss to his cheek. It had been so long since he was woken like that, and Blaine wanted nothing more than to melt into the warm embrace. Reaching out his hand, however, he found that the empty sheets beside him were already stone-cold. Blaine frowned a bit, gears turning behind closed eyes in a sleepy haze. It was unlike Sebastian to be up and about before him, especially so early to give the bedsheets enough of time to grow cold. Even though he wasn’t exactly a late sleeper, Sebastian liked to linger in bed; be it breakfast, reading, pondering, or –his personal favourite– fooling around. For Sebastian to not be around was somewhat of a mystery because Blaine knew for a fact that today was Sunday, because everything was peaceful and quiet and the sun was shining and his phone was off, and there were no schedules to follow on a Sunday, or rules and places to go, people to see, work to get dressed for and– o _hmygodwhatifitsnot_ – _is it even Sunday? did I sleep in? OHGODISLEPTIN! the sun is so high up already and school’s on Mond– oh my god what if she’s late on her first day of– Sebastian hates school– where the hell_ is _Sebastian– ohgodIdidn’twalkthe_ – Blaine opened his eyes and looked around in panic, his frantic stare landing on Sebastian’s pillow where lay an obscenely large piece of paper, filled with a familiar swirly cursive that instantly snapped him out of his moment of progressing hysterics. He reached for the note.

“ _To my dearest Snoring Beauty–_

_Off on an adventure with our fair Princess and her fearlessly annoying hound. Be back before you know it._

*   
_S. (Your Prince)_  


 _p.s. Yes, it’s still Sunday, in case you were wondering_.”

Blaine scoffed at the post scriptum, detecting a smirk in there, but felt relieved nonetheless. He put the note back where he found it. If they were all out of the apartment that meant there was no reason for him to get up yet, Garbo’s walk taken care of, but Blaine wasn’t much of a bed-lingerer unless there was some kind of company involved. Usually he was happy to stay behind for each of Sebastian’s lingering activities and had a lot of fun annoying Garbo whenever she sneaked to his side (this was no longer acceptable, with Sebastian back in their bed); however, staying in bed was hell on the rare occasion Blaine got sick and had to stay in bed for a period of time with no one to keep him entertained.

As he got up and wandered toward the bathroom, Blaine flashed to the last time he had to ‘linger’ in bed against his own will. It had been only a month after Sebastian returned from Paris, and things were starting to settle in, the initial stress of an entirely new situation which involved a 5-year-old who rarely spoke – and if she did, it was in French – and seemed to get along only with Blaine’s dog finally wearing off a little, Blaine went down with a terrible cold that had him in a fever for 48 hours straight. When it finally broke, Sebastian made him stay in bed for an entire week, passing up all marvellous opportunity for innuendo as he announced that he would not hesitate one bit if he had to tie Blaine down to the bed in order to make him stay in it. Blaine figured Sebastian had been really scared, and let it go. He had prepared himself for a week of dull and lonesome misery. However, sensing Sebastian’s worry herself, perhaps, Alizée stayed with him throughout the week, Blaine watching whatever she wanted. Mostly it were Disney movies and Blaine won her over completely in his capacity to watch them with genuine interest of an excited child, rather than the just polite interest other grown-ups showed, and they were as thick as thieves ever since.

Smiling to himself, Blaine threw on his house robe and went to the kitchen, a plan already forming in his head. He sipped some leftover tea as he made breakfast. They didn’t exactly have any couple-y traditions when it came to food, or anything else, for that matter. Both he and Sebastian admitted to each other they preferred to relax into the flow of things rather than plan too elaborately ahead, but not before a few failed and, looking back on it, fairly comical attempts at bulking out their budding relationship with tradition – but crêpes on a Sunday morning were as close to tradition as they got. _Not a bad one either_ , Blaine mused, finishing the batch. He then proceeded to figure out a way to keep the rapidly cooling mass warm until his boyfriend and his niece came back, only to be interrupted by the sound of the front door opening.

There was a delighted gasp when –Blaine presumed– the smell of freshly prepared food hit their nostrils, followed by hurried footsteps and an anxious whimper from Garbo who, still on a leash, couldn’t dash off in his direction like Alizée did. Alizée appeared in the kitchen doorway and ran up to him with an exuberant cry of “Blaine! You’re awake!”

She grabbed his hand as if this was an unexpected miracle, and he giggled at her excitement. “Well, good morning to you too– Of course I’m awake; someone has to feed you lot.” He said this jokingly, but Blaine knew better than anyone how Sebastian often forgot to eat.

“We went on an adventure! In our _pyjamas_ ,” she exclaimed, launching into a vivid, French-laden description as Blaine lifted her up to sit on the counter, so they’d be levelled. There was a thump and some shuffling in the hallway, followed by a frustrated whine which evolved into a desperate bark and an equally frustrated cry of “Okay– Okay! _Jesus_.” A soft metallic cling of something being unbuckled, and Garbo appeared by their side, jumping up at Blaine and expertly ignoring his feeble protests – all strangled yelps and attempts to lick any part of Blaine’s face she could reach, eager to give her own rendition of events.

Blaine’s inability to fend her off amused the little girl greatly, whereas a sigh that came from the doorway indicated that Sebastian was not so amused. After a much sharper “Garbo, _down_ ,” which she reluctantly obeyed, Blaine turned his head to look at Sebastian. “Hey,” he greeted him softly.

Sebastian was leaning against the frame with his arms crossed, his expression torn between fondness and irritation – Blaine was convinced it was meant for _both_ Garbo and him, even though Sebastian would never admit so. His sleepwear was peeking underneath what was a quite short and, Blaine noticed, quite his olive green lightweight parka, the one with huge pockets at the front.

“That dog is getting sassier every day,” Sebastian remarked, making his way towards them and never taking his eyes off Blaine’s.

“She learns from the best,” Blaine replied without a batting an eye, and when Sebastian came close enough, he touched the lapel of his jacket. “What are you wearing?”

Sebastian looked down at his outfit. “What, this?” Looking back at Blaine, he announced “I’ll have you know we were on a pyjama adventure. This”– he gestured between himself and Alizée, still clad from head to toe in her adventure clothes – “is the latest adventure fashion.” He then struck a couple of ridiculous poses, making his niece giggle and Blaine just shake his head.

“And what have you been up to, Killer?” Sebastian asked, his tone and the nickname advertising trouble, but before Blaine could answer, Alizée was pulling Sebastian’s sleeve. “ _Regarde_ , _Blaine a fait des crêpes!_ ”

“Oh, well,” said Sebastian, looking at the batch, “there goes our surprise.”

Blaine eyed him with curiosity. “What surprise?”

“We wanted to make you a surprise breakfast,” Alizée sighed dejectedly. “For snoring.”

Sabastian snorted.

“For– what?” He glared at Sebastian who put his palms up in defence. “Oh, sweetie,” Blaine reassured Alizée gently, as her face pulled into a disgruntled frown, “it’s ok. There’ll be plenty of other opportunities for a surprise breakfast.” He cast another glare back at Sebastian, who seemed to be having fun. “Snoring or otherwise.”

“Tell you what,” Sebastian said to her, stepping in, “why don’t you go upstairs and change into something less adventurous, and then we can watch a movie or something and have breakfast on the couch.” Alizée grinned and jumped off the counter. “Garbo, _viens_!” she commanded, and the dog followed her upstairs.

Sebastian seized the opportunity to draw in closer. “Hi,” he said softly, hands coming to rest on Blaine’s hips. He leaned in but instead of kissing him, like Blaine expected, his lips proceeded all the way to Blaine’s ear. “Your bedhead is the sexiest thing I have ever seen,” Sebastian whispered, making Blaine laugh a bit, but also sending shivers down his neck.

Blaine knew well by now that Sebastian found his naturally curly hair, which Blaine wasn’t quite so fond of when it occasionally decided to go wild, a real turn-on. Of course, that wasn’t the only thing that turned Sebastian on – in fact, it made Blaine quite self-conscious for a while when he came to understand that great many things about him fell into Sebastian’s range of sexy. However, he soon realized that not only he, too, had a wide scope of turn-ons when it came to Sebastian, but also that he found it appealing to be wanted and told blatantly so.

There used to be a time when even slightly inappropriate comments made him blush in discomfort but now, with Sebastian, it was like a domino effect. Being wanted made him want in return with even more fervour.

Blaine leaned away to look up at him. “I’m going to take a shower,” he announced in a neutral voice. “But I think I’ll leave the door unlocked.” There wasn’t even a real lock on their bathroom door, only a latch placed high enough so Alizée couldn’t use it, Sebastian explaining she could lock herself in when she was tall enough to reach it. Not to mention this was also a source of many a teasing joke concerning Blaine’s – _perfectly average_ , he might add – height.

Sebastian was staring at him, hypnotized by the glint in Blaine’s eyes. “Do _you_ need to take a shower?” Blaine asked innocently enough, but his lips were being pulled into a smirk and this seemed to snap Sebastian out of his trance.

“I’ll put something Disney on!” was Sebastian’s only reply as he hurried away to the living room, nearly tripping over a chair in his haste to get there sooner. Suppressing a laugh, Blaine put the crêpes, three plates and some toppings on the kitchen table so Alizée would be able to reach them if she didn’t feel like waiting for them to come down, secretly hoping it would buy them some extra time. He passed the girl and the dog on the stairs on his way to the bathroom and took her delighted cry in response to whatever Sebastian had picked out as a very good sign.

Leaving the door unlocked, Blaine undressed quickly and wasted no time in taking an _actual_ shower. The spray was a refreshing comfort, waking him up and soothing his muscles at the same time. Unfortunately, he didn’t get very far before there was a sound of someone entering and, Sebastian undressed in a flash, there were lean arms around his waist and soft lips on his neck, kissing their way up until Blaine met them with his own. Sebastian hummed into the kiss and moved his hands to explore, but Blaine broke it all too soon.

“ _You let me sleep in_ ,” he exclaimed, rounding on Sebastian in mock outrage and manoeuvring him so that Sebastian’s back hit the wall.

“I honestly can’t tell if what follows is meant as a punishment or as a reward,” Sebastian replied, sounding pleased with himself either way.

“We’ll see,” Blaine grinned and pressed himself close, his body invitingly warm against Sebastian’s, a contrast to the cold tiles. “Now shut up,” he commanded and resumed their kissing, the dormant fever seeping into Sebastian’s every fibre once more, melting him to the touch. There was nothing but its continual spread.

Confined in an infinite space, a slow, simmering warmth enveloped everything in existence. Everything was heat.


End file.
